


Everything you don't want to be, and everything you already are

by galacticberries



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Intrusive Thoughts, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 15:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticberries/pseuds/galacticberries
Summary: It's hard knowing that there is someone out there who could do Roman's job just as easily as he could. It's hard knowing that he'll never be as needed as the other sides, and it's even harder knowing that he'll never be as good as them.But Virgil makes all that a little bit easier.





	Everything you don't want to be, and everything you already are

**Author's Note:**

> [Slaps Roman on the top of his head]  
> This baby can fit so much self projection
> 
> Beta-ed by dirkygoodness as always

 

He hated this, god, Roman hated this _so much_. He hated how Remus made him feel. What he felt about himself, and about the others. Every awful, terrible thought came from him. Every time he made an off handed comment— every disgusting, mean insult could be traced back to him. All of Roman's issues (and god. There were a lot of those weren't there?) could come back to that, that-

 

Ugh. He couldn't even think of a proper nickname, a proper adjective to describe how awful Remus was. 

 

Everything Roman didn't want to be he saw in Remus. Every time Roman slipped up, was a bad friend, missed a deadline, he could almost _feel_ Remus smiling. He could see his smug look, Roman could hear his, " _See? We aren't so different._ " Every bad thing Roman was, it came from him. 

 

Right?

 

Or maybe. Maybe, if Roman let his thoughts wander down a bit and come to their natural conclusion, maybe it was the reverse. Maybe Roman caused Remus. Maybe every time Remus said anything- did anything- to Thomas or the others; it was because of Roman. Because Roman wasn't enough. Because even though he hated to admit it, hated to even think it, he was just as bad as Remus. He had those nasty, awful, horrible thoughts. He _was_ them, in a way.

 

Every time time he opened his dumb, stupid, mouth something worse came out than before and the worst part was he was trying! He was trying so hard but at the end of the day he was the center of all of this, wasn't he? 

 

None of the others had this, Logan or Patton, or even Virgil! And sure, Virgil is- _was_ \- a dark side but even then he had no real connection to Logan, just as Patton has no real connection to Deceit. Heck, Virgil joined the gang smoother and quicker than anyone could have hoped for. Maybe he was never really a dark side. Honestly, if you put any thought into it, Roman was the only one with a real connection to them.

 

Just look at the evidence, his own brother, his _other half_ was one. 

 

So what made him different? What set Roman apart besides a silly, lighter-toned costume? Was he no different than his brother?

 

Was this it?

 

Was Roman it? Was this as good as he was ever going to get— only ever be reminded that he'll never be enough, be better? 

 

Three loud knocks rang from Roman's door in quick succession, echoing throughout his room. They successfully knocked him out of his thoughts as Roman spun around on his bed quickly, scrambling to get over the mountain of blankets covering his mattress.

 

"Coming! I'm," He rubbed aggressively at his eyes as he made his way to the door, making sure to leave no trace of tears behind. Which is just sad, really. Roman hadn't even noticed he'd been crying. Remus would have laughed at him for that. "coming!"

 

He swung the door open, very taken back and only a little disappointed to see Virgil (He had been expecting Patton). 

 

"Oh."

 

Virgil leaned against the door frame slightly, pulling his jacket around him just a little tighter. "Hey. Gonna let me in?"

 

"Oh!"

 

Roman quickly backed away, and moved his arm in a wide gesture of _Welcome!_ as Virgil gave him a small smile and moved towards the bed. He flopped down, sinking deep into the mound of pillows and blankets. Roman stood by the door, laughing softly at Virgil's display. 

 

As he sunk deeper, Virgil let out a loud sigh, "Your room is my favorite. You have the best bed." 

 

At that, Roman couldn't help the huge smile that crossed his face as an odd sense of pride filled his chest. At least he had the best of something. 

 

In an instant, the moment was ruined. He quickly evened his smile to be less wide and full of teeth and into a more casual, more attractive smile. Something that didn't look absolutely ridiculous on his face. And with his smile, went the feeling of pride as well. God, what a dumb thing to get proud over. 

 

Blankets. He didn't even do anything for those, just snapped his fingers and _poof!_ There they were. The magic of being imaginary, he supposed. Nothing to get excited over, Roman could and probably has done it in his sleep.

 

Virgil gave a grunt and slapped the space next to him on the bed a couple times. Roman just rolled his eyes and headed over.

 

He moved himself over to the bed before flopping down himself, careful to avoid hitting Virgil's head. He laid his hands gently across his midriff, one on top of the other. Then he leaned his head back farther into the nest of pillows and allowed his legs to dangle off the edge gracefully. As he let his eyes drift close, he couldn't help but hope that he looked okay right now. That he looked decent, looked presentable- maybe even pretty. 

 

He felt himself exhale, and god wasn't that a self absorbed thought. _"I hope I look like a princess when I go to sleep!"_ God. Roman was insufferable. 

 

How did any of the others manage to put up with him for any period of time? He was so full of himself, so self consumed with being the best, the funniest, the prettiest, that he forgot along the way to be a _decent-fucking-human being for once_ —

 

"Hey!" He saw a hand snapping above him, "Earth to Romano? You there, sleeping beauty? Need a true love's kiss-"

 

Roman shot up far to quick for it to be considered normal and he could almost feel Virgil's questioning look. Notwithstanding Virgil's apparent confusion, he essentially barked out a quick, "I certainly don't!"

 

Ah, yes. Roman once wondered why his friends never complimented his wit before but that mystery is definitely solved. Why, after this display of verbal eloquence, he could compete with the likes of Shakespeare. 

 

Virgil, now laying on his side with one arm sticking awkwardly in the air, stared up at him. He raised one eyebrow in a silent question-demand of, " _What was that_?" _Well,_ Roman thought as he sat up a little straighter ( _hah, like he could ever be straight_ \- not the time, idiot.), _h_ _e wasn't about to play Virgil's mind games._ He just met Virgil's gaze head on. Or, eyes on, in this case.

 

Virgil only raised his other eyebrow before flopping backwards, "What? Do you not want to kiss me? My, Roman, have you been leading me on this whole time? Why I _never!_ " Virgil let out a breathy laugh- it was more of a giggle if Roman was being honest- as he looked back at Roman. 

 

And now Roman could feel the blush he had suspected had been building rise almost painfully in his cheeks. Of course Roman wants to kiss him, but with kiss comes a million other thoughts, thoughts of things he would never want to do in a million years. Things that freak him out, disgust him, but, yet, he still thinks them, doesn't he? 

 

In a pretty lame attempt to launch these thoughts as far away as possible, Roman face-plants next to Virgil. Maybe not the best plan since he's close enough that he can feel the scratch of Virgil's hoodie against the back of his neck. He huffs air out through his nose, frustrated at his own stupidity for the thousandth time this hour it seems, when- slowly, as if Virgil is afraid Roman might spook, the hoodie-scratch begins to move upward towards his hairline. Then, soft, warm fingers gently push through Roman's hair. 

 

Virgil is careful not get stuck in any tangles or cause any knots for later brushing. He keeps his hand movements small and rhythmic, only changing pace to add a small scratch here or there. If Roman were a cat, he knows he'd be purring. Part of him says, screams, _begs,_  for Roman to pull away because he doesn't deserve this- this kindness after all the crap Roman has pulled, all of the countless issues Roman caused single-handedly. Even the whole, "Selfless vs Selfishness" debacle was on him, all because he wants to be a _movie star_. 

 

Ugh. Roman hated himself most nights.

 

Maybe that's why he doesn't pull away. Maybe that's why Roman leans closer instead. Because it's really easy to get lost in Virgil's kindness and forget about all the other stuff for a little while. 

 

"So," Virgil began, "You gonna tell me what's on your mind or continue to burrow your way into my side?" 

 

The words are judgmental but the tone is joking. And it isn't exactly a lie. Without even noticing, Roman had nestled himself between Virgil's side and the rest of the bed. His head was resting on his upper arm, almost like a pillow but bonier. 

 

He feels his face heat up again and begins to pull away when the hand in his hair tightened just a fraction before instantly relaxing again. Another silent question, " _Stay?_ "

 

So, Roman scoots back and shuffles around a bit so he's facing Virgil this time. He looks at him, taking in all the little details, like the color of his eyeshadow and how it's a little lighter than usual. It looks nice on him. Roman could never pull off make-up like that. Even if they look the same it takes a certain type of confidence that Roman lacks in all the wrong ways.

 

With that, Roman gets the sudden, inexplicable urge to tell Virgil _everything_. Every upsetting thought, every self deprecating mantra that runs through his head at all hours of the night. He wants Virgil to know all his insecurities, all his fears, his _anxieties,_  like a test. To see if he'll stay after he sees the mess that's really there. He wants to tell Virgil about how Roman is pretty much convinced that he's just a Remus Repaint, newer model but same old issues and— wait.

 

Wait a minute.

 

Roman's brain finally catches up with him and provides a very important observation, Virgil is here. In his room. On his bed. With Roman. For no apparent reason.

 

So unless Virgil believes self harm is the answer here, why would he be spending more time with Roman than normal? 

 

Clearly something is off.

 

Roman eyebrows furrow together, "Wait, why _are_ you here?"

 

Instantly, he feels Virgil's whole body tense up and he starts to pull away. Edging just slightly closer to the door, and Roman feels more than actively instructs his arm wrap around Virgil in his own silent plea. " _Stay."_

 

And Virgil does. He relaxes a bit, but nowhere near to the carefree posture of before. "What? I can't just come talk to you?"

 

Roman shakes his head, "Not after we all spent an hour yelling at each other. You always want to be alone for a bit after stuff like that."

 

" _We_ didn't do anything." Virgil corrects, "You spent the hour sleeping on the living room floor."

 

"Which means I'm well rested to handle whatever you want to throw at me. Whatever issue!"

 

Virgil starts to shrug away again, "That implies there's an issue."

 

"There absolutely is!"

 

"Absolutely is not-" and now it catches up with Roman's brain that Virgil isn't really in his arms anymore. In fact, Virgil is closer to being completely out of the bed. Once again, Roman's body acts without his consent and tightens his grip suddenly. 

 

Virgil freezes and so does whatever lackluster rebuttal he had on the tip of his tongue. They both just stay frozen for a moment, stuck in the scene of Virgil almost out of the bed and Roman wrapped around him like an octopus half covered in blankets and Virgil's hoodie. 

 

Roman knows that he sort of has a reason to be out of it. He got hit in the head with a _mace_ of all things and then spent forty minutes knocked out on the ground, just to head back to his room to cry for the next hour and a half. Even without the pathetic sobbing, he knows Virgil would listen to the blunt force trauma excuse. But right as he's about to explain himself out of this one, Virgil moves back.

 

He scoots and pulls Roman closer, till Roman's head rests on his chest and he can hear Virgil's heartbeat steady thumping in his ears. Roman feels his own tension start to melt away a little as he selfishly hopes Virgil just leaves it at this. Just drops it here and let's them breathe in this moment, right now. 

 

"I'm sorry." 

 

_What?_

 

"I'm really sorry, Roman."

 

Roman feels Virgil's arms tighten around him, hears his heartbeat pick up just a fraction.

 

"Why are you apologizing?"

 

Virgil lets out a watery laugh, and gives a little huff of air, "Because I know what Remus means to you. I know how much you ha- _dislike_ him. And I-" The words catch in his throat and Roman has to fight the panic that rises in his, "I didn't protect you from him."

 

Roman launches up so fast because, oh my god, Virgil can not be this stupid.

 

"Protect me from Remus?" Roman spins to face Virgil, who's now in a sitting position as well, "What about me protecting you? He's  _my_   brother!"

 

Virgil shakes his head, "That doesn't make him your responsibility! I know them better. I mean I spent so much time with them, I'd have to."

 

Roman sits there, breathing in everything that was said. He runs a shaky hand through his hair, feeling it get stuck on several new tangles. Looks like Virgil grooming attempt wasn't entirely successful. He lets his hand drop towards Virgil knee and just stays there for a moment.

 

"Virge, none of this is on you." And before Virgil can get out any protest, he quickly cuts him off. "At least not anything to do with Remus, okay?"

 

This time it's Roman's turn to let out a watery sigh as he tilts his head back, as if in an attempt to rest it on his own shoulders. "Remus is my deal. I'm just sorry you all had to go through that while I took a nap."

 

"You were knocked out."

 

"Same difference."

 

Virgil scoots closer and carefully takes Roman's hand into his own, "This is why you've been so off, right?"

 

Roman let's his head flop forward onto Virgil's shoulder and he feels his eyes start to prickle at the corners. _God_. He squeezes his eyes closed and takes a couple measured breathes in an attempt to get this under control. God. Virgil could always read him like a book. Of course he figured it out. Noticing when things are bad is like- it's his _job_. When he thinks he can trust his throat enough to speak, he does.

 

"Yep." Is all he manages before his voice cracks and he feels his eyes heat up again and the tears start to fall. 

 

At least it's quite, he thinks. At least he's not sobbing. At least it's Virgil here and not Logan. At least, at least, at least.

 

At least there are still some things Roman can be thankful for. 

 

Virgil moves his arms around Roman and begins to rub small circles into his back. Roman can feel his own breathes turn uneven and start to waver. Virgil in turn just tilts his head so it rests on top of Roman's own, his arms pulling closer around Roman as he does. 

 

It's all- it's all more than Roman deserves. And far more than he can handle right now, when he's already feeling so raw and open. He hasn't earned this- this _kindness_. This softness that Virgil has reserved for him. It's not fair to Virgil, it's not. And the worst part of it is he feels himself start to cry harder and all Virgil does is pull him closer instead of push him away. 

 

He doesn't deserve that, not after everything. Not after he was so _mean_ to Virgil. To everyone. He wasn't nice at all so why- _why—_

 

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Roman is barely gets the words out between the now heavy gasps for air. What happened to the quite crying? "I don't- I don't deserve-"

 

Virgil squeezes him tight in response, "Shut up."

 

And Roman does. Instead of talking, he puts all his attention on getting his breathing under control. He tries to follow the technique Virgil taught them way back when they were all in his room. The only problem is he can't really remember how long he was supposed to hold the breath for and maybe he wasn't entirely truthful when he said that his head was fine because it's spinning now and-

 

"Hey," Virgil's words cut through his spiral, "Try to follow my breathing instead, if, uh, that helps" 

 

Roman feels a weak laugh come out despite himself, because Virgil is just as awkward as ever. It was kinda adorable. 

 

Virgil gives a light wack on his arm, "Don't laugh at me, you jerk. I'm helping." 

 

Roman pulls away, moving to untangle himself as Virgil unwraps his arms from around him. He pulls himself back and aggressively rubs at his face with his sleeve. God, crying is so gross. 

 

Roman looks up at Virgil and works very hard to get his breathing steady. Virgil looks back, worry painted clear across his expression. And Roman gives the most sincere smile he could at the moment, because Virgil's still here. He doesn't have to be. 

 

"Yeah. You are." Virgil looks a little taken back but smiles in response. 

 

He pushes himself a little closer so they're knees just slightly touch, "I'm glad you're okay."

 

"Me too."

 

"And I am really sorry-"

 

Roman groans because, god, Virgil could make no sense sometimes, "Stop apologizing. None of this is your fault."

 

Virgil leans back slightly and crosses his arms, "I should know better, I was one of them."

 

"Yeah, exactly, was." Roman gives an eye roll, "You're one of us now, remember?" 

 

"Okay but if that's your reasoning you have no reason to get upset at yourself over Remus." Virgil shrunk in on himself, glaring at Roman.

 

Roman rubbed at his face again, frustration coming off him in waves. He didn't expect them to get it. They had no real way to understand, because they had no point of reference. They didn't know what it was like to live in someone's shadow the way Roman did. To know that you weren't valuable. To know that Roman wasn't unique, he wasn't special. He was just the Radio Friendly version. 

 

He isn't special, and he _wasn't_ important.

 

"It's not like that, Virge." God, this was so difficult to explain and even harder to understand, "It's- me and Remus were connected in a way that's. It's hard to explain."

 

He held his hands up and smashed them together, fingers intertwining. "We're two sides of the same coin." He let out a small sigh, "The only real difference is what we look like."

 

"That's not true-"

 

"What we are, it's _, he's,_ inherently apart of me." Roman let his hands fall, but kept them in a fist. "He handles creativity, and so do I. What's really separating us? I mean, he's my brother, after all."

 

Roman pulled his arms closer in an almost desperate attempt to protect himself from it all. He wrapped his arms around himself in this pathetic pseudo self hug. God, he was so lame he had to hug himself. He wasn't cool, and he wasn't popular. He was just a cheap knock off.

 

Then, he felt Virgil's hand rest on his own on top of his arm. Roman's eyes shot up to meet his. Virgil was just looked back, warm and understanding. He moved his other hand to Roman's cheek, smiling sadly as he did. 

 

"All of that is crap, you know that right?" Roman felt his eyebrows shoot up, because uh, what? "Don't give me that look, you heard me."

 

"But-"

 

"No, you're nothing like him." Virgil moves both hands to Roman's face now, pulling him closer, "You're nice and funny, and all you want to do is create! He just wants to freak people out. He doesn't care about anything but that. But you? Roman you care about so much. And you're trying so hard, which is way more than I can say for him."

 

Roman can feel tears form in his eyes again as he desperately tries to think of something clever to say but comes up blank. So much for Shakespearean wit. He's just left completely speechless.

 

"You want to make good content and wonderful stories and you put so much thought and _effort_ into all of them." Virgil let's out a laugh, "I mean, none of us could do this without you, you know? You're important to all of us." 

 

Roman feels his body move on it's own accord for the third time in the last ten minutes as he envelopes Virgil in a huge, definitely overbearing hug but he can't seem to mind in the moment. 

 

"You're really important to me too."

 

He feels Virgil falter for a moment and then hug him even tighter than before. And in the moment, in this second, he thinks that maybe, maybe everything will be alright. Maybe it'll all work out, because he's not going to have to deal with this alone. And why should he spend so much time worrying about his jerk of a brother when he has someone who genuinely cares about him right in front of him? 

 

Seems like a pretty dumb decision to him, if he's being honest. 

 

He lets out a small sigh of contentment and smiles into Virgil's shoulder and feels himself relax, really relax, for the first time since his brother showed up. Yeah, Roman's almost positive that everything is going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> i have SO many feelings about the newest vid. so this happened. in case you were confused by the abuse tag, im considering knocking your brother out with a mace abuse. also for quick clarification in case it wasnt clear, Roman in this is ace and struggles with intrusive thoughts because im ace and struggle with intrusive thoughts and i felt like projecting
> 
> Edit: sigh, I'm a failure. I thought I wouldn't have to go back and fix formating issues this time around but here I am! Anyway fixed some formating issues.


End file.
